The Devil Is In The Details
by readergirl1013
Summary: Upon John Asmodeus Addams Sheppard's return to Atlantis after his Yuletide holiday he undergoes a standard medical check. Doctors, of course, can tell quite a lot from the results of their scans; and Carson Beckett is about to learn that the devil is in the details.


John Asmodeus Addams Sheppard swung his legs idly back and forth as he waited for Carson to come over for his medical check after returning to Atlantis through the Stargate. He relished the twinges of pain he felt as he banged his abraded ankles against the bed struts. The Scotsman was currently bickering with McKay about something. John honestly didn't care what.

When, at long last, Carson came over to see him John was relieved. Although the lengthy and invasive medical checks were delightfully torturous, he was rather anxious to check on Lorne and Teldy and make sure the Marines hadn't blown anything up without him.

He had brought them back some improved homemade plastic explosives he had received from his cousin, Pugsley, for Yule. He couldn't wait to try them out. The destruction would be magnificent. He thought the Marines would appreciate that gift more than homemade cookies.

"Hello Colonel, I hope you had a happy holiday," Carson beamed cheerily.

John hid a wince. He'd have to reacclimatize himself to… sunnier dispositions… after his stay at home. "Hello Carson, it was…" John trailed off and moderated what he had been about to say, "great to go home."

"Aye, I can imagine," Carson said with empathy, "It was such a joy to be able to see my mother and sisters this past Easter. Although, I could have done without all the crying."

John blinked, "Why was there crying?" He asked hesitantly.

Carson looked at him like he was an idiot, John felt rather at home at the look. It reminded him of his cousin, Wednesday. Seeing John's continued confusion Carson elaborated, "Because they'd all thought I was dead for the last several years."

John was still confused. Why would anyone be upset at their relatives' demise? Especially one as gruesome as Carson's- to die in a fiery explosion, how full of agony it must have been. Surely his relatives' would exult in the endless dark that would greet them after a satisfying life full of misery, pain and devastation?

At John's continued confusion Carson explained carefully, "They were happy to see me alive again."

John frowned lightly, "How odd." He offered at length, hoping it would be a satisfactory answer. He was confused as to why they hadn't simply conducted a séance if they'd wanted to speak to Carson after his death.

Judging by the fact that Carson began muttering darkly under his breath about children falling through cracks, John suspected he'd not said the right thing.

He smirked lightly; the dark mutters made him feel a wave of homesickness. How wonderfully unpleasant. However, he'd never fallen through a crack before. Off a roof, from a tree, he'd even been flung in a catapult- but never through a crack.

He'd have to try that.

As Carson began to pull out the various torture implements that made up the medical equipment, John glanced around the open infirmary. One of his Marines was laid up with a cast to his hip, there was Dr. Dimaano from Xeno-Zoology covered in some sort of rash in one corner, and three of the Anthropologists were looking miserably lavender nearby.

While John had decided to make his relationship with Gregorius official and open, he felt no need to air his sexual practices to his subordinates. Unless it was useful to do so. Or, perhaps, amusing- if he was bored enough. He wasn't that bored yet though.

"Mind if we go to a closed room Carson?" He asked nonchalantly.

Carson's eyebrows shot up. Then a worried frown crossed his face, "Of course Colonel, let me just grab one of the handheld medical scanners."

John nodded, and after a brief wait, followed Carson into a private room. "So what seems to be the problem lad?" Carson asked.

"No problem," John assured him, "I just didn't want to give the gossips more material. Dimaano is one of the worst in the city."

Carson nodded, but looked extremely skeptical. He waved John up onto the bed. John sat down, enjoying the light pain he felt as he did, reminding him of his Gregorius. Carson's eyebrows drew together from where he'd been fiddling with the scanner; obviously he'd been watching John out of the corner of his eye.

Carson attempted to smooth out his face, and turned back to where John was perched on the bed, purposefully shifting a bit in order to increase the twinges of pain. At Carson's badly hidden 'worry-face' (patent pending) John stopped wiggling.

"Carson?" He frowned back, arching a dark brow, and trying to remember what he'd done to earn that look this time. Since he'd been on Earth for the past eight days, he was coming up blank.

Carson didn't answer; instead he just gave John an odd grimacing smile and waved the scanner over him. At the results Carson's eyes seemed to become even more concerned.

"Colonel," Carson began. And then stopped. He closed his eyes briefly, and seemed to be trying to… do something. John wasn't sure if he was trying to say something difficult or if he was constipated.

"Colonel," Carson tried again, "Do you know who did this to you?"

"Huh?" John replied in bewilderment. "Know who did what?"

Carson gestured at John's neck, where a bite mark was just visible under the collar, "That," he said flatly.

John's hand went to the back of his neck automatically, and a feeling of shadowy bliss swept over him, "Oh yes, Gregorius. My partner," he hissed lightly as he pressed down on the bite mark. Eyes going half-lidded with the pain, as he remembered Gregorius' desire to leave a visible bite, he shuddered in pleasure.

Carson's eyes were narrow, "Colonel. John, the man, your Gregorius, who…" Carson stuttered, "That m-monster who did this, did you re-report it?"

"Huh?" John asked again. He frowned lightly, why was Carson calling Gregorius a monster? Only Gregorius' mother did that.

"Did you report the… the incident?" Carson stumbled over his words again.

John looked at Carson blankly, "Inci… Oh!" John exclaimed, realizing that Carson meant his and Gregorius' relationship, "Not exactly, after all it's not like they want to hear details." He tilted his head slightly, and admitted, "Except maybe Uncle Fester."

Carson's eyes went wide, and he took a deep breath. "Col- John. It's, er, it's nothing to be ashamed of lad. You don't have to… to hide from me. It doesn't mean you're, er, weak, or, or less of a man, or well, anything like that."

John shook his head and rolled his eyes, "Well of course I'm not ashamed." He laughed darkly, "And if I was hiding, Carson, you'd never find me."

Carson stared at John with pity, and said gently, "John, did you press charges? Do you want to do so?"

"Press charges?" John was confused, when did those boring police (never wanted anyone to have any fun, those guys) come into the conversation. "No, no one's pressed charges against me since I was twelve. I didn't get caught after that."

It was Carson's turn to look confused, "What?"

"They couldn't prove anything," John said proudly, smirking. "Not one, single time."

Carson opened his mouth. Then he closed it and shook his head. "Colonel, stop evading the subject. Did you inform someone?"

"Well, my family of course," John arched an eyebrow. Why was Carson so concerned about whether or not he'd come out to his family?

"Good, good," Carson looked relieved, "And did they… They did something?"

John tilted his head. When he'd first told his Auntie and Uncle they'd not particularly done anything. Well, Auntie had asked that he pass the drain cleaner to put on her roast and Uncle had clapped him on the shoulder and taught him about how to properly tie someone down.

Perhaps Carson meant more recently? After he and Gregorius had gotten together.

"Well, of course they did," John told him with a snort, "Like they'd simply ignore such a thing."

Indeed, Aunt Morticia had given them a cutting of her prized African Strangler plant, Cleopatra for their home. (Gregorius was taking care of it). Uncle Gomez had given them a bottle of the one of the finest rums St. Cyprian's had ever produced- a 200 proof bottle from 1864; and a case of cigars.

"Oh thank goodness," Carson breathed out.

"Yes, I was… quite satisfied with everything," John gave Carson a dark and conspiratorial look.

Carson looked disturbed. John was jealous.

Eventually Carson's disturbed look became resolute, "John," he said seriously, laying his hand on John's shoulder and staring him in the eyes, "You're my friend, and I will protect your family as if they were my own. I can only imagine what I would do if some… beast did something like this to one of my sisters!"

John was touched. It felt horrible. "Er, thanks Carson." He stumbled over his words a bit, but as the disgust thankfully overwhelmed the mushy feelings his voice cleared, "Next chance we get you can come to my place and meet the family. They'd love to hear about your retrovirus collection."

"Thank you John," Carson said, although he sounded a bit strange. "Tell me the truth, now, have you spoken to a professional about this?"

John frowned, what sort of professional would one talk to after getting into a relationship. Then his expression cleared, "Oh, of course! Auntie insisted." He said, remembering the surprise treat his Aunt had given he and Gregorius that summer he'd turned fifteen and told her about Gregorius and him.

She'd sent him to Conversion Therapy Camp, with Gregorius, where they tortured him and his fellow teenagers for enjoying sex with other men. What a treat. The electro-shock. The solitary confinement. The disgusting and destitute prostitutes who put on shows for them in order to show them how to be 'straight'. The degradation and humiliation. The brain-washing.

It had all been going well, a lovely little vacation, until they'd tried to brain-wash Gregorius and him into believing their family was the problem. After that the place had to be destroyed.

Sic gorgiamus allos subjectatos nunc.

They'd rallied their fellow campers and burned the place to the ground. John liked to think he'd inspired Wednesday's little rebellion at Camp Chippewa a few years later.

"It went great," John told Carson, smiling as he remembered Pastor Dan's screams as they'd electrocuted his testicles every time he gotten an erection watching straight porn.

Carson smiled back, "I'm glad, and if you ever need to talk to someone simply knock on my office door. I'm always willing to listen, lad."

Before John could answer the other man there was a shout from the main infirmary, "Dr. Beckett! Carson! Emergency in OR2, Keller needs help!"

Carson bolted from the room, "We'll talk later," he shouted over his shoulder, "I'll send in McBride to finish your physical."

After several minutes Dr. Jiro McBride entered the room. "Colonel Sheppard," the Japanese doctor nodded formally at John.

John returned the formal nod, "Dr. McBride." He liked the calm doctor who'd been on Atlantis since the original expedition, even though Carson was his typical primary care physician.

"I understand this is a routine medical check upon your return to Atlantis?" McBride asked as he pulled the handheld medical scanner Carson had been using towards him.

"It is," John confirmed.

McBride nodded in acknowledgement and cleared the data on the scanner out without looking it over. John arched an eyebrow in question.

McBride shrugged, "I do not want Dr. Beckett's results to bias me." John nodded in understanding, and McBride continued.

John nodded, "Anything you can tell me about who's in surgery?" McBride shook his head, and John sighed, "Well, scan away then," he ordered.

McBride didn't waste time with further discussion, and simply waved the scanner over John. He studied the results, and his eyebrows shot up. He looked at John after smoothing out his features, "Was sexual activity consensual?"

"Yes," John confirmed. "And quite enjoyable," he smirked.

McBride snorted, "Did not need to know that." He studied the readout more carefully, "We need to have a talk about safe sex practices?"

"Only if you really want to," John said sardonically. That would be torture, which would be a lovely welcome back to the City.

"Don't want to," McBride shook his head. John felt a bit disappointed. "We should though. These results…" He waved the scanner.

John rolled his eyes, "It doesn't really matter," he shrugged. He was very much aware that what his family considered to be 'safe and sane' did not meet most of the more boring peoples' standards of either safe or sane.

McBride looked affronted, "It very much matters!" He argued back, "If you get some disease from some girl…" he glanced at the scanner and corrected himself, "Some guy you pick up somewhere then we're all in trouble. You are the reason Atlantis is still floating. Half of the expedition would walk back off the City if you weren't here leading."

John felt a flush of delightful embarrassment. "Thanks Jiro, but I'm sure you're exaggerating. And that's not what I meant. Besides, Gregorius is my partner, we've been together for a while," John sort of lied. He and Gregorius had only been official since the 23rd, but they'd been sleeping together (when able) since they were sixteen and at their first Revel as adults.

He also decided to avoid mentioning the threesome with Abigail they'd had on the Solstice. Anyways, Gregorius and Abigail would have told him if they were more contagious than usual! They'd have known he'd want to catch it too.

"Ah," McBride nodded. "Tell him to be more careful when you have to return to duty," McBride instructed.

John snickered darkly, and at McBride's arched brow said with a smirk, "I'm pretty sure Gory's doctor is saying the same thing. He's a CSI."

McBride huffed, "It's you I worry about." He continued instructing, "I'm wrapping the abrasions on your wrists and ankles and bandaging the bite marks to keep them from being irritated. I'll be prescribing you an analgesic for them as well. Not that I think you'll actually use it." McBride seemed almost amused, "And a light antibiotic to prevent infection from any… tears. Would you like a stool softener as well?"

"No thanks," John was thrilled with the embarrassment rushing through his system.

McBride nodded, "You're also on light duty for a week, until the pulled muscles heal up a bit. No running or bantos rods either."

John groaned, he so enjoyed his torture sessions with Teyla and Ronon. At least the boredom from doing nothing would be its own sort of torture, although not nearly as fun.

"Arm," McBride ordered. John stuck out his arm and let McBride pull several vials of blood. McBride muttered under his breath in Japanese as he had to stab John repeatedly in order to get the blood sample.

John smiled malevolently, relishing the slight pain from the needle stabbing into his arm. Once McBride had managed to get the vein he looked up at John, "I hate your rolling veins."

"I don't mind them," John said with a shrug.

McBride snorted, "I do not want to know." He stuck his head out the door, "Marie!"

Nurse Marie Chung walked into the private room. "Yes Jiro? Oh! Hello Colonel. How was your vacation?"

"I quite enjoyed it," John said tactfully. He ignored McBride's short laugh. "How were the holidays here Marie?"

"Great. Nothing caught on fire this year. And someone managed to convince Cortez, in the kitchens, not to make his "traditional" tava bean cake this year, so that was nice." Marie said with a grin.

"Less infirmary visits this year too," McBride added. He handed the vials of blood to Marie, "Full panel."

She left with a last grin in his direction, "I think you're the only one who ever ate that cake, Colonel."

John plastered on a false smile in answer. He'd been so looking forward to Cortez' tava bean cake leftovers. It reminded him of Grandmama's Weevil Cake.

He sighed as he looked around Atlantis. He was barely back and he was already missing home. Where he could truly be Asmodeus Addams, instead of John Sheppard. It was going to be more difficult keeping his promise to his Aunt Morticia then he'd thought.

At the end of a very long day Drs. Carson Beckett and Jiro McBride wandered into the mess hall. They both tiredly picked up a tray of the daily special (not that they knew what it was) and sat down on the deserted patio to eat.

"What a day," Carson said in exhaustion.

"I'll say," Jiro agreed. He shook his head with a grin, "You English have a quote- 'You learn something new every day.' I have definitely learned something new today."

"Oh?" Carson asked, head resting on his hand. His eyes felt like they were made of sand, they were so dry from staring into Sergeant Song's guts to find all of the shrapnel. They'd managed to save the lad's life, but he wouldn't be able to stay in the military.

"Colonel Sheppard," Jiro grinned at him before taking a large bite, "Who'd have thought, yeah?"

"There's nothing amusing about it, man!" Carson was shocked. How could Jiro find a person, any person, being so intimately assaulted amusing?

Jiro gave Carson a look, and shrugged, "He should have been more careful."

Carson's jaw dropped, "It was hardly his fault!"

Jiro raised an eyebrow, "Well, I suppose… but really he's in charge of an entire military base. I realize stupid American regulations have changed, finally. But that is no reason for Colonel to be stupid instead."

"His being in the military means nothing," Carson declared, "Such a… thing could happen to anyone. We should offer the man our support."

Jiro furrowed his brows, "He's the military leader of this base. He has to be in top form. He should have put a stop to it sooner."

Carson shook his head. Obviously they had very different perspectives on what John had suffered through. Perhaps it was cultural, but Jiro seemed convinced the Colonel should have been able to stop the assault.

It had been a shock to Carson as well, but he knew that such things could happen to anyone, regardless of physical prowess. The simple fact that John's partner was the one responsible for such heinous actions must have made things even more difficult for the man.

He shared as much with Jiro, "But that it was his partner who did such a thing, it must have made things more difficult." Carson clucked his tongue and shook his head.

Jiro laughed in response, "True, I am sure the Colonel was enjoying himself far too much to protest much."

Carson gaped, horrified.

Jiro continued, not noticing the look on Carson's face, "Of course the man gave as good as he got from what he said."

Carson's jaw dropped and he squeaked, unable to say anything.

Jiro looked up at the noise, "Really Carson I did not realize you were such a prude. Do not look like that. You live in floating ancient alien city in another galaxy. You can fly said alien city with your mind. A little sexual… diversity should not faze you so."

Carson's jaw went up and down without his consent.


End file.
